Family History
by Sable Supernova
Summary: Once upon a time, Scorpius Malfoy couldn't even imagine being friends with a Potter. Scorpius and Albus friendship one-shot. QLFC Score: 8.25/10


**Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, where I was a Substitute Beater for the Wigtown Wanderers.**

_My prompt was Inter-House Friendship, and I also used the optional prompts: mirror, force, shock, partner and 'a piece of cake'._

_Also submitted to the Harry Potter Day Competition for the Next-Gen Category._

_I would like to thank the wonderful firefly81 and Emmeebee for beta-reading this piece, you were both brilliant and very helpful!_

* * *

Potions was not my favourite subject. My father had been quite good at it when he was a student here, but I had inherited my mother's lack of sense with ingredients. To make matters worse, the professor had made us work in inter-house pairs, and I was sat next to the insufferable Albus Potter. To make matters even worse, today we were studying and attempting to brew Girding Potions, which were known for being devilishly difficult.

"I hate Potions," I muttered under my breath, and Albus looked at me with a grin.

"It's a piece of cake," he said, and I rolled my eyes. Of course it was – to him. He was a Potter; Potters always thought they could do anything.

The truth was the history of our families went back generations. The Malfoys and the Potters just didn't get on. My parents hadn't wanted to pass their grudges on to me, but the snide remarks my father sometimes made were more than enough to sour my opinion of them.

Now, in second year, I could have successfully said I had never had a conversation with Albus Potter, and I was proud of that. At least, until today.

"I can help you, you know. We are partners now, after all," he said with a smile.

"I don't need help from a Potter," I told him, and no more was said.

* * *

It was Third Year when we next spoke. By then, I thought I knew who my friends were. I was proven wrong, of course, as everyone is at one time or another. Absolon Zabini had been a good friend, shy and quiet, and we had trained for the Quidditch try-outs together. He had been desperate to make the team, I knew, and we were both hoping for Seeker. I had thought that provided healthy competition, but he'd evidently had other ideas. As he stood in the stands, away from everyone else, and pointed his wand at me, I felt my broom rise a little higher, out of the line of the Snitch. He'd thrown my chances and knocked out his only real competition.

Making my way back into the castle alone, I was fuming. I wasn't watching where I was going, and as I made my way through the front doors, I stupidly walked into someone.

"You look happy," Albus Potter said, with his characteristic smile. He infuriated me.

"Leave me alone, Potter," I said, irate.

"It's only small talk, you should try it sometime," he replied, and my eyebrows knitted together in a scowl. "I saw what Zabini did out there. I can't believe the Captain didn't notice. Everyone knows you're the better player."

"Yeah, well, they clearly don't care," I told him, letting my frustration out. He smiled again, as if he found what I said funny, and I felt my anger slip away just a little.

"That'll be awkward when I catch the Snitch against Slytherin later this year, won't it? You won't know whether to laugh or cry," he said, grinning, and I found myself smiling against my better judgment. Stupid Gryffindor.

"It's a shame you won't have decent competition this year," I said, and began to make my way past him. When it came to lightening the mood, I guessed he was alright to have around.

He wasn't just another Potter after that, but rather a kid like me. He was even relatively calm in comparison to his older brother. We still didn't really talk, but he'd made me feel better about a bad situation, and I had to respect him for that.

* * *

Fourth year was when I discovered girls. Beautiful, funny, cute, perfect girls. The Gryffindor girls were the best of the bunch, too, in our year. Rose Weasley and her friends were the _crème de la crème_ then, and every boy was desperate for one of them to throw a smile their way. Everyone saw how close Rose was to her cousin, Albus, and suddenly I found myself curious. A part of me wished I could be that close to the pretty Weasley girl.

So when I found myself in the Library one night, sharing a table with him, I couldn't stop myself from speaking up.

"Herbology?" I asked, knowing we had an essay due in two days' time. He gave me a curious look before smiling.

"Yeah, it's doing my head in, to be honest. Who cares about Bubotuber Pus?" he replied, and I smiled back.

"The idiot who wrote our textbooks."

"Got a date for the Yule Ball yet?" he asked me, and I was surprised he was making actual conversation. The Yule Ball was an old and new tradition, all at the same time. After the disastrous attempt to rekindle the Triwizard Tournament, they'd held a Yule Ball on its tenth anniversary as a tribute to Cedric Diggory and all who had lost their lives during the Second Wizarding War. It's taken place every year since.

"Not yet, you?"

"No, me neither. I asked Rose as a joke and she punched me," he grinned. The same would probably happen to me if I tried that one.

"I'll bet that's the same reaction she gives to most people who ask," I commented with a smile.

"Most, yeah, but I think she's waiting for someone," he said back, and I couldn't help but wonder who it was.

Whoever it was, he obviously didn't ask, as she sat with her friends for most of the night. I'd gone without a date, too, in the end. Asking someone was an awful lot of trouble. Albus obviously didn't agree, though, as he spent most of the night dancing with a pretty brunette. She seemed nice enough, if a little plain. Albus and I talked that night, about nothing much, but we were getting along. That seemed to set a precedent. We talked a lot from then on, and we learnt that we had more in common than our Quidditch position. It was strange, getting to know someone you thought you'd already figured out. We entered into a strange acquaintanceship, each of us tiptoeing around the boundaries our fathers had placed before us. I didn't tell my parents I was becoming friends with him, and I didn't think he'd said anything either. Neither of us were sure how the news would be received.

* * *

It all came to a head in sixth year. The summer before had been long and hot, but the cold had set in before September began. It happened in the boy's bathroom, which was the last of all places that you expected something to happen. It was on the Third Floor, between first and second lessons, and the bathroom was much more crowded than it usually was. There appeared to be a commotion of some sorts, and I craned my head to watch. That was when I saw Albus being slammed against the mirror with such force that it shattered around him. He winced in pain as Goyle, the seventh year who had pushed him, held his wand up to his chest.

"Stay out of my way, Potter," he growled, in a way only Goyle ever could. My initial reaction was shock, but when I saw the wince of pain cross Albus' face, I knew I had to step in.

"Lay off, Goyle," I said, drawing my own wand out to face him. The spectators stepped aside to let me through, eager not to interrupt the scene playing out before them.

"What are you doing, Malfoy? You friends with him now or something?" he asked, and I held my chin up higher.

"Yeah, I am," I said, realising how true it was. "And you know my father won't stand for this," I added. Understanding clouded his eyes as he began to lower his wand. Our fathers were close friends, and his hung on every word mine said. If I was to send word to my father, his would soon find out, and he would have no defence.

"You'll pay for that, Malfoy," he said, before pushing past me to walk off. The audience soon dispersed too, and I looked at Albus. He smiled at me a little before walking away.

The following day, I had the feeling that something had changed. I'd taken my usual seat in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but my usual companions, the other Slytherins, had chosen to sit elsewhere. I was upset, but I didn't let it show. When Albus walked in, he came to sit beside me with no hesitation.

"Thanks for yesterday," he said, his world-renowned grin plastered on his face once again. Rose had followed him into the classroom, and as she passed us, she looked right at me and smiled. I smiled back; I couldn't help myself.

"Don't mention it, it's what friends are for," I told him.


End file.
